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wipeawaythedebtHe spends the first few days back in a bottle, wracked with guilt and pain unlike anything he's ever felt. But it doesn't help. The memories, fresh as if they had happened last week instead of twenty years ago, won't leave him alone and here in Darrow there just isn't anywhere left to run. There aren't any wars to go off and fight, and while the temptation to hit the tables or see if he can't pick a fight in a bar somewhere is strong, he resists it. She wouldn't want him to.
Elizabeth.
Anna.
Two sides of the same coin and he's the one that had set them spinning. It was his doing, all of it. He sold his daughter to a man who promised her a better life than the one Booker could give and the man had been a monster. Comstock locked his little girl in a tower, treated her like an experiment and tried to make her his... sacrificial lamb or whatever the hell Comstock had planned. Booker still hasn't figured that out. There's nothing he can do to ever fix that.
But he has to start somewhere. For whatever it's worth, he is her father. And he had been planning on getting her something for the holiday before everything had gone so crazy. So today, even though it's after Christmas, he's standing at her door, freshly showered and shaved with a small package in his hands. Only he can't bring himself to knock. She'd made it perfectly clear when she moved out that she was done with him and after that whole mess back in New York she might hate him even more now. He doesn't blame her. He hates himself quite a bit these days. So in the end, he leans over and sets the wrapped gift near the doorframe and turns to leave.
Best if he's not here when she finds it.
Elizabeth.
Anna.
Two sides of the same coin and he's the one that had set them spinning. It was his doing, all of it. He sold his daughter to a man who promised her a better life than the one Booker could give and the man had been a monster. Comstock locked his little girl in a tower, treated her like an experiment and tried to make her his... sacrificial lamb or whatever the hell Comstock had planned. Booker still hasn't figured that out. There's nothing he can do to ever fix that.
But he has to start somewhere. For whatever it's worth, he is her father. And he had been planning on getting her something for the holiday before everything had gone so crazy. So today, even though it's after Christmas, he's standing at her door, freshly showered and shaved with a small package in his hands. Only he can't bring himself to knock. She'd made it perfectly clear when she moved out that she was done with him and after that whole mess back in New York she might hate him even more now. He doesn't blame her. He hates himself quite a bit these days. So in the end, he leans over and sets the wrapped gift near the doorframe and turns to leave.
Best if he's not here when she finds it.
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Date: 2015-03-01 08:13 am (UTC)He doesn't even know what to say to any of that. Doesn't know if he should be happy or terrified she's given him the opportunity to disappoint her again. He'll just have to keep his shit together this time. Remember what, who, is important to him and why. No more forgetting, no more pushing the memories down and thankfully without Columbia's tears and the Luteces' manipulations he should be able to keep everything where it is. As hard as it is to remember, it's probably better this way, for both of them.
As for the future, "I don't expect you to forget, Elizabeth, kinda surprised you even opened the door for me, but I'll be damned if I'm gonna have it slammed in my face again. Your Ma'd probably come back an haunt me if I did that." It's another thought that tears at him, that his precious Annabelle would never see the strong, stubborn girl she'd left behind.
Surprisingly, he finds himself wiping a tear from his eye at the thought. "She'd be so damn proud of you, Elizabeth and you're so much like her..." He can't quite finish the thought.